This, however, is independent of the merits of the question, which

I do not feel inclined to examine minutely. The change which has taken

place in the mode of administering government in modern times, renders

it of less practical importance than it was formerly, when so much

depended upon the personal talents and activity of the reigning prince.

It may be added, that the evils incident to a female reign will be

less felt under such a constitution as that of Britain, than under a

pure and absolute monarchy. This last consideration is urged by Aylmer;

and here his reasoning is most satisfactory.[318] The Blast bears

the marks of hasty composition.[319] The Harborow has evidently been

written with great care; it contains a good collection of historical

facts bearing on the question; and, though more distinguished for

rhetorical exaggeration than logical precision, the reasoning is

ingeniously conducted, and occasionally enlivened by strokes of

humour.[320] It is, upon the whole, a curious as well as rare work.

{223} After all, it is easier to vindicate the expediency of

continuing the practice, where it has been established by law

and usage, than to support the affirmative, when the question is

propounded as a general thesis on government. It may fairly be

questioned, if Aylmer has refuted the principal arguments of his

opponent; and had Knox deemed it prudent to rejoin, he might have

exposed the fallacy of his reasoning in different instances. In

replying to the argument from the apostolical canon,[321] the

archdeacon is not a little puzzled. Distrusting his distinction

between the greater office, “the ecclesiastical function,” and the

less, “extern policy,” he argues, that the apostle’s prohibition may

be considered as temporary, and peculiarly applicable to the women of

his own time; and he insists that his clients shall not, _in toto_, be

excluded from teaching and ruling in the church, any more than in the

state. “Me thinke,” says he, very seriously, “even in this poynte, we

must use επιεικια, a certain moderacion, not absolutely, and in every

wise to debar them herein (as it shall please God) to serve Christ.

Are there not, in England, women, think you, that for their learninge

and wisdom, could tell their householde and neighbouris as good a

tale as the best Sir Jhone there?”[322] Beyond {224} all question.

Who can doubt that the learned Lady Elizabeth, who on a certain time

interrupted the dean of her chapel, and told him to “stick to his

text,” was able to make as good a sermon as any of her clergy? or,

that she was better qualified for other parts of the duty, when she

composed a book of prayers for herself, while they were obliged to use

one made to their hands? In fact, the view which the archdeacon gave

of the text was necessary to vindicate the authority of his queen, who

was head, or supreme governor, of the church, as well as of the state.

She who, by law, had supreme authority over all the reverend and right

reverend divines in the land, with power to superintend, suspend,

and control them in all their ecclesiastical functions――who, by her

injunctions, could direct the primate himself when to preach, and how

to preach――and who could license and silence ministers at her pleasure,

must have been bound very moderately indeed by the apostolical

prohibition, “I suffer not a woman to teach, nor to usurp authority

over the man, but to be in silence.” Reason would also say, that she

had an equal right to assume the exercise of the office in her own

person, if she chose to avail herself of that right; and had she

issued a congé d’élire, accompanied with her royal recommendation to

elect some learned sister to a vacant see, the archdeacon at least

would not have felt so squeamish at complying with it, as the Italian

university did at conferring the degree of Doctor in Divinity upon the

learned Helen Lucrecia Piscopia Cornaca.[323]

{225} There are some things in the Harborow which might have been

unpalatable to the queen, if the author had not sweetened them with

that personal flattery, which was as agreeable to Elizabeth as to

others of her sex and rank, and which he took care to administer in

sufficient quantities before concluding his work. The ladies will be

ready to excuse a slight slip of the pen in the good archdeacon, in

consideration of the handsome manner in which he has defended their

right to rule; but they will scarcely believe that the following

description of the sex could proceed from him. “Some women,” says

he, “be wiser, better learned, discreater, constanter, than a number

of men;” but others (“the most part,” according to his biographer)

he describes[324] as “fond, foolish, wanton, flibbergibs, tatlers,

trifling, wavering, witles, without counsel, feable, carles, rashe,

proud, daintie, nise, tale‑bearers, eves‑droppers, rumour‑raisers,

evil‑tongued, worse‑minded, and, in every wise, doltified with the

dregges of the devil’s doungehill!!!” The rude author of the monstrous

Blast never spoke of the sex in terms half so disrespectful as these.

One would suppose that Aylmer had already renounced the character

of advocate of the fair sex, and recanted his principles on that

head, as he did respecting the titles and revenues of bishops, which

he inveighed against before his return from exile, but afterwards

accepted with little scruple; and, when reminded of the language which

he had formerly used, apologized for himself by saying, {226} “When I

was a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man I put away

childish things.”[325]――But it is time to return to the narrative.

Our Reformer’s letter to the protestant lords in Scotland produced

its intended effect, in reanimating their drooping courage. At a

consultative meeting, held at Edinburgh in December 1557, they

unanimously resolved to adhere to one another, and exert themselves in

advancing the Reformation. Having subscribed a solemn bond of mutual

assurance, they renewed their invitation to Knox; and being afraid

that he might hesitate on account of their former irresolution, they

wrote to Calvin, to employ his influence to induce him to comply.

Their letters did not reach Geneva until November 1558.[326] By the

same conveyance, Knox received letters of a later date, communicating

the most agreeable intelligence respecting the progress which the

reformed cause had made, and the flourishing appearance which it

continued to wear, in Scotland.

Through the exertions of our Reformer, during his residence among them

in the year 1556, and in pursuance of the instructions which he left

behind him, the protestants had formed themselves into congregations,

which met in different parts of the country with greater or less

privacy, according to the opportunities which they enjoyed. Having

come to the resolution of withdrawing from the popish worship, they

provided for their religious instruction and {227} mutual edification

in the best manner that their circumstances would permit. As there

were no ministers among them, they continued for some time to be

deprived of the dispensation of the sacraments;[327] but certain

intelligent and pious men of their number were chosen to read the

scriptures, to exhort, and offer up prayers in their assemblies.

Convinced of the necessity of order and discipline in their societies,

and desirous to have them organized, as far as was in their power,

agreeably to the institution of Christ, they next proceeded to choose

elders for the inspection of their manners, to whom they promised

subjection, and deacons for the collection and distribution of alms

to the poor.[328] Edinburgh was the first place in which this order

was established: Dundee the first town in which a reformed church

was completely organized, {228} provided with a regular minister,

and favoured with the dispensation of the sacraments.

During the war with England, which began in autumn 1556, and continued

through the following year, the protestants enjoyed considerable

liberty; and they improved it with great zeal and success. The clergy

were not indifferent to the progress which the reformed opinions were

daily making, and they prevailed with the regent to summon such as

had presumed to preach without their authority; but she was obliged

to abandon the process against them, in consequence of the arrival of

certain gentlemen from the west country, who demanded their release in

a tone which declared that they were resolved not to be refused.[329]

At a meeting of the nobles and barons attached to the Reformation,

held at Edinburgh in December 1557, two resolutions were adopted for

regulating their conduct in the present delicate juncture. It was

agreed, in the first place, that they should rest satisfied for the

present with requiring that prayers, and the lessons of the Old and

New Testament, should be read in English, according to the book of

Common Prayer,[330] in every parish, on Sundays and festival days,

by the curates of the respective parishes, or, if they were unable or

unwilling, by such persons within the bounds as were best qualified.

And, secondly, that the reformed preachers should teach in private

houses only, till the government should allow them {229} to preach

in public.[331] The first resolution has been represented as an

unwarrantable assumption of authority by this reforming assembly, and

as implying that they had a right to dictate to the whole nation, by

setting aside the established worship, and imposing a new form. This

construction is, however, irreconcilable with the situation in which

they were then placed, and with the moderate and submissive tone in

which they continued to urge their claims at a subsequent period.

It is rather to be viewed as expressing the opinion of that meeting

respecting the degree of reformation which individuals of their body

might introduce, in places to which their authority and influence

extended. And, accordingly, it was reduced to practice in many

parishes where protestant barons resided, and where the people were

disposed to imitate their example.[332]

In pursuance of the second resolution agreed on at the general

meeting, the earl of Argyle undertook the protection of John Douglas,

a carmelite friar, who had embraced the reformed sentiments;[333]

and the rest of the preachers were received into the houses of other

barons, and employed to preach as their chaplains. This measure

alarmed the clergy no less than the former practice of itinerant

preaching had done. They saw that it would be vain to commence

prosecutions against preachers who were entertained in the families

of the principal men in the kingdom; and they resolved to exert all

their influence to deprive them of {230} such powerful patronage.

Presuming upon the easy temper of the aged earl of Argyle, and

upon the friendship which had long subsisted between his family

and the Hamiltons, the archbishop of St Andrews wrote a letter to

that nobleman in a very insinuating strain, and at the same time

sent a relation of his own, Sir David Hamilton, with instructions

to represent the danger to which he exposed his noble house by

countenancing Douglas, and to intreat him, in the most earnest manner,

to withdraw his protection from such a pestilent heretic. Argyle’s

reply was temperate and respectful, but at the same time firm and

spirited: he not only vindicated the doctrine taught by his chaplain,

and refused to dismiss him, but made several shrewd and pointed

remarks which the archbishop could not fail to apply to himself.

The bishop having written that he felt himself bound “in honour and

conscience” to enquire into the heresies of which Douglas was accused,

the earl replies: “He preiches against idolatrie, I remit to your

lordschip’s conscience gif it be heresie or not; he preiches against

adulterie and fornicatioun, I referre that to your lordschip’s

conscience;[334] he preiches against hypocrisie, I referre that to

your lordschip’s conscience; he preiches against all maner of abuses

and corruptioun of Christis sincere religioun, I referre that to your

lordschip’s conscience. My lord, I exhort yow, in Christis name, to

wey all {231} thir affairis in your conscience, and considder if it be

your dewtie also not onlie to thole[335] this, bot in like maner to do

the same. This is all, my lord, that I varie in my age, and na uther

thing bot that I knew not befoir these offences to be abhominable to

God, and now, knawing his will by manifestatioun of his word, abhorres

thame.” Referring to the bishop’s offer to send him a learned and

catholic teacher, the earl replies, “God Almichtie send us mony of

that sorte, that will preiche trewlie, and nathing but ane catholic

universall christian fayth; and we Hieland rude pepill hes mister[336]

of thame. And if your lordschip wald get and provyde me sic a man, I

sould provyde him a corporal leving as to my self, with grit thanks to

your lordschip; for trewlie, I and many ma hes grit mister of sic men.

And becaus I am abill to sustain ma nor ane of thame, I will requeist

your lordschip earnestlie to provyde me sic a man as ye wrait; for the

harvest is grit, and thair ar few labouraris.”[337]

Foiled in his attempts to prevail on the nobility to withdraw their

protection from the preachers, the archbishop determined to wreak

his vengeance upon such of them as were still within his power, and

proceeded to revive those cruel measures which had been suspended

for several years, by the political circumstances of the country

rather than by the clemency and moderation of the clergy. Walter Mill,

parish‑priest of Lunan in Angus, having been condemned as a {232}

heretic in the time of cardinal Beatoun, had escaped from execution,

and continued to preach, sometimes in private, and at other times

openly, in different quarters of the kingdom. Being lately discovered

by one of the archbishop’s spies, he was brought to trial at

St Andrews. He appeared before the court so worn out with age, and the

hardships which he had endured, that it was not expected he would be

able to answer the questions which might be put to him; but, to the

surprise of all, he conducted his defence with great spirit. Such was

the compassion excited by his appearance, and the horror which was now

felt at the punishment to which he was doomed, that the clergy, after

pronouncing him guilty, could not procure a secular judge to pass

sentence of death upon him, and the archbishop was at last obliged

to employ a worthless servant of his own to perform the odious task.

On the 28th of August 1558, Mill expired amidst the flames, uttering

these words: “As for me, I am fourscore and two years old, and cannot

live long by course of nature; but a hundred better shall rise out of

the ashes of my bones. I trust in God, I shall be the last that shall

suffer death in Scotland for this cause!”[338]

This barbarous and illegal execution produced effects of the greatest

importance. It raised the horror of the nation to an incredible

pitch; and as it was believed, at that time, that the regent was not

accessory {233} to the deed, their indignation was directed wholly

against the clergy. Throwing aside all fear, and disregarding those

restraints which prudence, or respect for established order, had

hitherto imposed on them, the people now assembled openly to join

in the reformed worship, and avowed their determination to adhere to

it at all hazards. Harlow, Douglas, Paul Methven, and some others,

were emboldened to break through the regulations to which they had

submitted, and began to preach, and administer the sacraments, with

greater publicity than formerly.[339] In the month of October,[340]

they were joined by John Willock, who returned a second time from

Embden.

Meanwhile, the protestant barons, having assembled at Edinburgh in the

month of July,[341] had resolved to lay their complaints in a formal

manner before the regent. They renewed the request which they had

formerly made, that she would, by her authority, and in concurrence

with the parliament, restrain the {234} violence of the clergy,

correct the flagrant and insufferable abuses which prevailed in the

church, and grant to them and their brethren the liberty of religious

instruction and worship, at least according to a restricted plan

which they laid before her, and to which they were willing to submit,

till their grievances should be deliberately examined and legally

redressed.[342] Their petition was presented to the regent, in the

palace of Holyroodhouse, by Sir James Sandilands of Calder, in the

presence of a number of the nobility and bishops. Her reply was such

as to persuade them that she was friendly to their proposals; she

promised, that she would take measures for carrying them legally into

effect, as soon as it was in her power, and assured them, that, in the

meantime, they might depend on her protection.[343]

It did not require many arguments to persuade Knox to comply with an

invitation, which was accompanied with such gratifying intelligence;

and he began immediately to prepare for his journey to Scotland. {235}

The future settlement of the congregation under his charge, occupied

him for some time. Information being received of the death of Mary,

queen of England,[344] and the accession of Elizabeth, the protestant

refugees hastened to return to their native country. The congregation

at Geneva, having met to return thanks to God for this deliverance,

agreed to send one of their number with letters to their brethren

in different places of the continent, and particularly in Frankfort,

congratulating them on the late happy change, and requesting

a confirmation of the mutual reconciliation which had already

been effected, the burial of all past offences, and a brotherly

co‑operation, in endeavouring to obtain such a settlement of religion

in England as would be agreeable to all the sincere well‑wishers

of the Reformation. A favourable return to their letters being

obtained,[345] they took leave of the hospitable city, and set out for

their native country. By them Knox sent letters to some of his former

acquaintances, who were now in the court of Elizabeth, requesting

permission to travel through England on his way to Scotland.

In the month of January 1559, our Reformer took his leave of Geneva

for the last time.[346] In addition to former marks of respect, the

republic, before his {236} departure, conferred on him the freedom

of the city.[347] He left his wife and family behind him, until he

should ascertain that they could live with safety in Scotland. Upon

his arrival at Dieppe, in the middle of March, he received information

that the English government had refused to grant him liberty to pass

through their dominions. The request had appeared so reasonable to his

own mind, considering the station which he had held in that country,

and the object of his present journey, that he once thought of

proceeding to London without waiting for a formal permission; yet it

was with some difficulty that those who presented his letters escaped

imprisonment.[348]

This impolitic severity was occasioned by the informations of some of

the exiles, who had not forgotten {237} the old quarrel at Frankfort,

and had accused of disloyalty and disaffection to the queen, not only

Knox, but all those who had been under his charge at Geneva, whom

they represented as proselytes to the opinion which he had published

against female government.[349] There was not an individual who could

believe that Knox had the most distant eye to Elizabeth in publishing

the obnoxious book; nor a person of judgment who could seriously think

that her government was exposed to the slightest danger from him or

his associates, who felt no less joy at her auspicious accession than

their brethren.[350] If he had been imprudent in that publication, if

he had {238} “swerved from the particular question to the general,”

his error (to use the words of his respondent) “rose not of malice,

but of zeal, and by looking more to the present cruelty, than to

the inconveniences that after might follow;” and it was the part of

generosity and of good policy to overlook the fault. Instead of this,

Elizabeth and her counsellors took up the charge in a serious light;

and the accused were treated with such harshness and disdain, that

they repented of leaving their late asylum to return to their native

country. One cannot help feeling indignant at this weak revenge, when

it is considered that Elizabeth had admitted to favour, and retained

at court, persons who had endeavoured to prevent her succession, and

who had thirsted for her blood;[351] and that those who, under the

preceding reign, had advised and practised the greatest severities

against the protestants, were now treated with the utmost lenity.

Even the infamous Bonner was allowed to appear at court, and, although

the queen shuddered at the thought of a man who was polluted with

so much blood kissing her hand, yet was he at this time going about

London without the smallest molestation.[352] In the {239} first

parliament of Elizabeth, one Dr Story made a speech, in which he had

the effrontery to justify the cruelties of Mary, to boast of his own

activity in carrying her orders into execution, and to regret that

measures still more violent and effectual had not been adopted for the

utter extirpation of heresy.[353] Nor does it appear that this speech

was resented either by the house or by the queen.

De nobis, post hæc, tristis sententia fertur:

Dat veniam corvis, vexat censura columbas.

The refusal of his request, and the harsh treatment of his flock,

touched to the quick the irritable temper of our Reformer; and it

was with some difficulty that he suppressed the desire which he felt

rising in his breast, to prosecute a controversy which he had resolved

to abandon. “My first Blast,” says he, in a letter, dated Dieppe,

6th April 1559, “hath blown from me all my friends in England. My

conscience bears record, that yet I seek the favour of my God; and

so I am in the less fear. The second Blast, I fear, {240} shall sound

somewhat more sharp, except that men be more moderate than I hear

they are.――England hath refused me; but because, before, it did refuse

Christ Jesus, the less do I regard the loss of this familiarity. And

yet have I been a secret and assured friend to thee, O England, in

cases which thyself could not have remedied.”[354] But greater designs

occupied his mind, and engrossed his attention. It was not for the

sake of personal safety, nor from the vanity of appearing at court,

that he desired to pass through England. He felt the natural wish to

visit his old acquaintance in that country, and was anxious for an

opportunity of once more addressing those to whom he had preached,

especially at Newcastle and Berwick. But there was another object

which he had still more at heart, and in which the welfare of both

England and Scotland were concerned.

Life of John Knox, Fifth Edition, Vol. 1 of 2 Containing Illustrations of the History of the Reformation in Scotland · 第 13 / 35 段